


Her Uncle Pete

by kitsunealyc



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-02
Updated: 2011-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitsunealyc/pseuds/kitsunealyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Amy Madison learns a little bit of magic from her very favorite uncle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Uncle Pete

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this several years ago as a little bit of interstitial fluff. I'm just porting my stories over to AO3 now.

Her Uncle Pete’s visit had been the best time in Amy’s recent memory. Her mother had been much nicer, and almost never criticized Amy when Uncle Pete could hear. They ate out all the time, and best of all, Uncle Pete was much more powerful in magic than her mother – “Practically a squib,” he’d called her, and her mother flinched.

Amy had always known that her mother was jealous of her, although she didn’t understand why. Her mother had been prettier, more popular, a better cheerleader, everything that was important. Sometimes Amy wondered if it was maybe because of the magic. Amy had always been able to do things that her mother found impossible. And her mother had been livid when Amy received the invitation to go to that special boarding school, so mad that she’d torn the letter up into tiny pieces. The school didn’t have a cheerleading team, her mother had told her at the time. No daughter of hers was going to miss out on being Head Cheerleader.

So when Uncle Pete took her to the park, promising to show Amy something very special, something she could do that her mother couldn’t, Amy knew it would be something magic.

Amy sat cross-legged on the grass, knees bouncing with her excitement. She was too twitchy, her mother said, but so was Uncle Pete. He was short and pudgy, too – not really the kind of person most early-teen girls would hero-worship, but he made her mother nervous and took her away from the house, and that was enough for Amy. She even admired his silver hand, the one he got bringing some poor man back to life. Her Uncle Pete was a hero!

“Amy,” he said, his shoulders hunched forward, his eyes shifting back and forth. “It’s a shame that your mother wouldn’t allow you to be properly educated. You could be a very strong witch with the right training. I can’t do much now, but just you wait. Your Uncle Pete knows powerful people, he does. He’ll see you’re taken care of.” He patted her hand, like a father would if she had a father.

“Now, I can’t show you much since you don’t have a wand, but there is one thing I can show you. It’s in the blood, so to speak.” He looked around again, then squeezed his eyes shut. And suddenly sitting before Amy was a rather scraggly-looking rat, right were her Uncle Pete had been.

“Uncle Pete? Uncle Pete!” she squeaked, then just as suddenly the rat was gone, and she was looking into the twitchy features of her uncle again. He patted her hand again.

“Now I’ll show you how to do it. Don’t worry dear, been in our family for generations. Should be quite easy for you to pick up.”

Amy spent the next half hour squeezing her eyes shut and thinking **_Rat_**. She was getting tired and frustrated and was just about to give up, when a strange popping shiver rattled its way up her spine. She found herself huddled under a pile of cotton that was her sundress, staring up at a much larger Uncle Pete through beady black rat eyes. Her uncle smiled, and a moment later he waved a polished stick of wood over her, muttering the words ~ _Metti Posto~._

And then Amy was Amy again. She adjusted her sundress so that it was on properly, then looked at her Uncle Pete with a grin as bright as his silver hand.

“Don’t worry.” He smiled and put his wand away. “The next time I visit, I’ll teach you how to turn back. There’s nothing worse than living half your life as a rat. Believe me, I know.”

Amy beamed and nodded, already looking forward to his next visit. Her Uncle Pete was the best!


End file.
